


Reacquainted

by BecksLovesBlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Divorced Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Established Relationship Rose Weasley/Scorpius Malfoy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Pining Hermione Granger, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Strangers to Lovers, Widowed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecksLovesBlue/pseuds/BecksLovesBlue
Summary: Rose Weasley is terrified of her boyfriend's overprotective father. When she asks for Hermione's help deterring him, Hermione finds that Mr. Malfoy has come a long way from the boy she knew twenty years ago.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy/Rose Weasley
Comments: 41
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/191824956@N05/50857979641/in/dateposted/)

Hermione Granger never imagined herself spending a Saturday afternoon at Diagon Alley with Draco Malfoy. Yet, she found herself walking towards a small café near Flourish and Blotts, where he and his son waited for her and Rose.

Her daughter had come back from her fourth year at Hogwarts with the news that she was dating Scorpius Malfoy. The sight had almost given Ron a heart attack when they jumped down from the Hogwarts Express with hands intertwined. It hadn’t been an easy summer for either of the young lovebirds since.

“Remember, don’t be weird,” Rose warned as they turned a corner and caught sight of two blond haired figures down the street.

Hermione rolled her eyes, having heard the same warning before.

“I’m your mum, you’ll always think I’m weird.”

Rose groaned.

“Don’t be weird about Mr. Malfoy, mum.”

They walked into the garden area of the café, just as Scorpius shifted to look at them.

“Rose!” He walked towards her and took her into a tight embrace, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. Rose’s cheeks burned red and she stepped back from Scorpius’ hug. He turned to look at Hermione and offered her his hand and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Granger.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s manners. He always was quite charming, she understood why Rose was so infatuated with him.

“Good afternoon, Scorpius.” Hermione’s eyes flicked up towards the man walking in her direction and she gave him a curt nod. “Malfoy.”

The older Malfoy responded by way of a curt nod, before turning to look at Rose. “How are you today, Miss Weasley?”

“I’m well, thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” Rose answered quietly.

Hermione glanced at her daughter questioningly, surprised by Rose’s subdued tone. Her daughter, however, paid her no mind, as Scorpius quickly grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her towards the door.

“Excuse us, we’re going to sit inside,” he chimed. 

“Scorp,” Scorpius paused at his father’s voice, “sit in my line of vision.”

Scorpius nodded and headed inside, while Draco and Hermione took a table in the garden near the window.

“You didn’t have to come,” Draco offered as he sat down across from Hermione.

“Oh, I did. Rose insisted,” Hermione replied with a small smile. She swatted away his words with her hand. “Apparently she’s terrified of _Mr. Malfoy_. She thinks you’re extremely frightening and you’re always looking at her.”

Draco clenched his jaw at her words.

“I don’t like Scorp being out alone.” He paused as if measuring his words. “There have been incidents.”

“I understand.” Hermione watched Scorpius pull the chair for Rose, whose cheeks burned increasingly crimson as she broke into a wide grin before sitting down. “Your son does know how to treat a lady.”

“Thank you, he’s quite smitten with your daughter.”

Draco waved over the server and placed in their order before speaking again.

“He came home for Christmas holiday and all he could talk about was Weasley this, Weasley that. In the beginning, I didn’t know which one because there’s so many of you Weasleys arou—”

“I’m not,” Hermione interrupted quickly.

“Pardon?” He met her gaze.

His gray eyes made Hermione feel unsettled. Thankfully, the server came up with their tea just then and broke the uncomfortable moment.

She nursed her teacup and cleared her throat. “I’m not a Weasley.”

It was quite infantile to many, but Hermione believed she’d spent enough years of her life making a name for herself to not use it. Particularly now, when she was truly, no longer a Weasley.

“Ah, right. The divorce, my apologies.” Draco studied her for a moment before leaning forwards. His voice was low when he spoke. “Ron Weasley has always been spectacularly idiotic.”

“Well, that’s not really fair,” she began, placing her tea down while fidgeting with the rim of her cup. She frowned into her tea. “It was actually a very amicable divorce. We just weren’t compatible. We had different views about how to keep a household, and in the end, neither one of us was really happy. Ron is still one of my—”

“Granger.” Draco’s interrupted quietly.

She looked up at him startled. There was the faintest hint of a smirk, _his smirk_ , resting on his lips. Yet, there was no malice in it. In fact, Hermione swore it was almost… playful.

“What?”

“Weasley’s a fucking idiot because he let a witch like you go,” he explained. “You’re brilliant, you’re a war heroine, you have a fantastic career track, you’ll probably be the next Minister for Magic, your daughter idolizes you, and with good reason, and at thirty-nine,” his eyes roamed over her momentarily, taking her in with a gleam in his grey orbs that she couldn’t quite place. “Well, you look great for thirty-nine.”

Hermione’s cheeks burned. Blushing, she mumbled into her cup, “I’m actually forty.”

Draco straightened in his chair, clearing his throat.

“I doubt there’s a witch alive as brilliant as you are, and if there were, Weasley couldn’t possibly score that high again.”

Hermione schooled her features into hiding her shock. She had half a mind to drag Draco towards St. Mungo’s and demand he be examined by a mind healer. There was no way he could be speaking to her, _about her_ , like this. How much had Draco Malfoy changed in the last twenty years?

“Well, he’s not doing too bad; he’s been with Katie Bell for a couple of years now.” Hermione shrugged. “What about you? What’s your story?”

Draco looked inside the coffee shop and she followed his gaze towards where their children sat. Rose was laughing at something, presumably Scorpius’ blush as he patted down the table with some napkins. Hermione looked up at Draco’s face. It was clouded with emotion for a moment.

She took the opportunity to take him in, truly. Draco did not look like he had when they were children. He’d grown into the pointy aristocratic features that set him apart, making his face angled and handsome. He was tall, always had been, but while in his teens and his twenties he had been lanky and lean, he’d managed to grow out of the seeker build, and had filled in quite well. Hermione smiled to herself, admitting silently that Draco Malfoy was fit.

“Scorpius is probably the only thing I have to show for myself, you know, that I ever could do anything good, anything that was right,” he finally spoke, his gaze met hers once again.

It hit her at that moment the profound sense of loss she could see in his eyes. Once cruel and demeaning, his gaze had turned soft. Hermione wondered if it was the unrelenting love a parent felt for their child or the circumstance with which he’d live that had changed his eyes.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You have heard the rumors, right?” He paused for a moment, and Hermione stiffened.

She had indeed heard an array of rumors revolving around the Malfoy family, rumors that ranged from Lucius Malfoy rising to be the next Dark Lord to assumptions about their finances. The most unusual and unlikely of all was that his son was Voldemort’s spawn.

“I’ll take your silence as an affirmation,” Draco spoke softly, gazing at his son once more. “It hasn’t been easy for Scorp, and it certainly hasn’t been easy for me to deal with. They only got worse after Astoria died, Scorp was eight, and the Wizarding World seemed to agree that I was somehow involved.”

“Do you think that’s why my daughter is afraid of you?” She asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, slight annoyance on his face. “And not because I _stare_ at her?” Draco shook his head, the annoyance fleeing his face to be replaced with worry. “I don’t stare _at_ her.”

“You don’t?” Hermione hid her smile behind her cup of tea.

Draco sighed before schooling his features back into nonchalance. He took a sip from his tea and placed his cup back on the saucer gently.

“I stare at both of them, their interactions.” Draco sneaked another glance back inside. “Did she tell you about her detention?”

Hermione spluttered, coughing tea as she covered her mouth with her hand. She shook her head fervently.

“Rose doesn’t get detentions.”

Draco’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. He scoffed a very graceful scoff and quickly recovered with a smirk.

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you believe that a child who was raised in a household with you and Ron Weasley wouldn’t get into detentions.” He paused, gauging her reaction. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “She hexed a sixth-year last term, apparently a good bat bogey hex. A fellow Gryffindor team member, no less.”

Hermione glared inside at her daughter. Rose was chatting animatedly, Scorpius merely stared at her a crooked grin plastered over his face.

“Rose wouldn’t. She’s too well behaved.”

“Yes, well, the kid had opinions about Scorp and she responded by hexing him.”

Hermione considered the information for a moment. Memories of herself during her later years at Hogwarts flooded her mind. She thought of Rita Skeeter in her animagus form, locked inside a glass jar. She thought of Marietta Edgecombe and the blemished on her face that had lasted past her teenage years. She thought of Dolores Umbridge being swiped away by a herd of furious centaurs. All because they had somehow offended her, or Harry or Ron.

She frowned, pursing her lips into a tight line. Rose inherited much of her attitude from her mother. And Hermione wouldn’t put it past her to protect those she cared about by any means possible.

Another memory flashed in her mind, this time of the man sitting across from her and her hand connecting with his face. She considered the other side of the equation.

“And Scorpius didn’t have anything to say about this?” Hermione’s frown was suddenly replaced by a smirk. “He _is_ Draco Malfoy’s son.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Draco asked in a low drawl. His eyes were narrowed at her, but she didn’t sense hostility in his face. It was almost… playful.

“Well, the Draco Malfoy I went to school with never let anybody fight his battles,” she responded playfully. “I remember him being particularly well vexed in the art of hexing front teeth.”

His face fell and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Granger, I-”

Hermione tilted her face to look at him. She waved her hand dismissively and he trailed off. “It was over two decades ago, and it ended up being advantageous to me. There’s no need to apologize.”

Draco’s expression warmed at her words. His gaze softened, the lines in his forehead eased and he smiled, not the usual smirk, but a soft genuine smile.

“There are many other things I should have apologized for,” he said sheepishly. “Twenty years too late, but _I am_ sorry.”

He averted his gaze from hers. She felt compelled to place her hand upon his and when he met her eyes once again, she returned his warm smile. She considered her words carefully. He was no longer the Draco Malfoy she had gone to school with.

Certainly, he had lived through a lot. The war from his perspective was traumatic. The war had been hell for all of them, but nobody on her side had been trying to kill her. She knew more than a couple of Death Eaters would have given plenty to be able to dispose of any member of the Malfoy dynasty.

Then, after his trial and his years under house arrest, she heard he had reconnected with the Greengrass sisters and married the younger one, Astoria. Falling in love, marriage, parenthood had to have left their mark on the Malfoy heir’s character. Losing his wife and having to raise his son alone definitely had left an impact on him.

He apologized. Never in her life had she considered Draco capable of such actions. He had taken her completely off guard, and it because she was off guard that she wondered how to proceed.

She let her Gryffindor courage flourish at that moment.

“The best apology you could have granted me was raising your son as you did.” She began, tentatively. “The fact that he felt comfortable enough to date a half-blood, the daughter of a Wesley and a muggle-born and tell you about it. That’s been enough. The way that he treats my daughter is beyond anything I could expect from any partner she could have.”

She searched his expression, expecting to see him retract. She was pleasantly surprised to see his face relax. He looked almost proud. Hermione removed her hand from his and rested back in her chair.

“Well, in all honestly, it hasn’t really been smooth sailing,” Draco began, and Hermione could see the playfulness sneak itself back into his features. “When he said he wanted to date the daughter of Ron Weasley I had half a mind to hex myself into oblivion.”

Hermione chuckled at his remark. “I’ll have you know, Rose is a magnificent young lady.”

“Oh, I know. It’s nothing against your daughter,” he quickly amended smirking. “I made it clear to Scorp, he can date Rose as long as I get to be at least six feet away from Weasley at all times if there ever be an occasion for us to be in the same room.”

Hermione chuckled. “Sounds like a good rule. There’s no need to be six feet away from me?”

Draco flashed her a smirk, “well, if Weasley looked as gorgeous as you do, I wouldn’t want to be six feet away from him, either.”

Hermione felt herself blush and instinctively bit her lip. Was Draco Malfoy flirting with her? It felt nice. Hermione didn’t remember the last time someone had flirted with her. Most of the men she met were significantly intimidated by her, often tiptoeing around her in an effort to not offend the great Hermione Granger. It was the reason she hadn’t gone on a second date since her divorce.

“You’re blushing like a schoolgirl, Granger,” he added before letting a low laugh escape him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, averting her eyes from him. “I’m not used to that kind of attention anymore.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

Before Hermione responded, they were interrupted by an all too familiar voice. “Mione!”

She turned around and entering the café garden was Ron, walking up to her quickly. She stood up and gave Ron a quick hug. “Ron! Didn’t know you were off duty today.”

“I’ve been off Saturdays most of the summer because of Rosie.” He shrugged and looked around at Malfoy, whom he greeted with a blank stare and a nod. “Where is she?”

Hermione fixed him a stern glare.

“She’s inside with Scorpius and you are not allowed to walk in there and embarrass her.” Her voice reminded her a little too much of her own mother’s at that moment.

Ron ran his hand through his hair, “do you really think that’s something I would do?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her ex-husband and he laughed nervously. “Well, yes. I would. No matter. I was going to owl you asking if I could take Rosie with me tonight and bring her back to you on Monday.”

“Sure,” Hermione answered quickly. “I can bring her by to Harry’s after we’re done here.”

“Thanks, Mione,” Ron said giving her a smile. “Katie and I want to tell her about the engagement before the party next weekend.”

“That’s fine.” Hermione waved him off. They finished arranging the details and quickly Ron was on his way.

Hermione took her chair next to Draco back, “Sorry about that.”

“The struggles of co-parenting,” he said giving her a warm smile.

“Where were we?” she asked as she flattened nonexistent creases on her skirt.

“I was about to ask you about your job at the ministry, and you were going to include your plans to become the youngest female Minister for Magic in history,” he responded, flashing her a charming grin.

Hermione was glad he had switched the topic from their previous conversation. The truth was, she wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of male attention. She had barely dated in the three years since her divorce.

Her job, though, was a topic she could chatter on about for hours. Malfoy was a good conversationalist and his eyes remained fixated on hers as he took in every one of her words.

She quickly learned that he spent his years after the war studying different branches of potioneering, and therefore he was very aware of the breakthroughs regarding magical creatures. He would occasionally comment on how the legislature that she passed was helpful in the acquisition of different potions ingredients, or how the regulations from animal breeding increased the quality of others.

They spent the rest of their afternoon lost in conversations regarding magical creatures, potion-making, healing, and eventually wandered off to literature, politics and she even asked him about his traditional pureblood upbringing.

He would occasionally flirt with her and make her blush, but Hermione was slowly coming to terms with his advances. Quickly she managed to reply to them swiftly and on two different occasions, _she_ had even been the one to make _him_ blush.

It was enough to almost forget that this wasn’t a date. It was her daughter’s date. A fact she was only reminded of when Rose and Scorpius stepped out to the garden area, hand in hand and giggling.

Draco and Hermione shared a knowing look with each other, both failing at stifling their smiles.

“Are we leaving?” Draco eyed his son carefully, prompting a death glare from his son for even suggesting it. Draco rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione, eyebrows raised in search of help.

She turned her eyes on her daughter who was scrunching up her nose and her brow was slightly furrowed, but her lips were closed tight in a small grimace.

“Rose makes that face when she wants to ask permission for something, and she thinks I’ll say no,” Hermione told Draco without breaking eye contact with her daughter. “Right, Rose?”

“Can Scorp come to Uncle Harry’s and my birthday next weekend?” Rose blurted out quickly, apparently before she had the chance to change her mind.

Hermione looked nervously at Draco, who stared at the children in obvious shock. She bit her lip. “Um, sweetheart-”

“I know he and Mr. Malfoy don’t like each other, but I would really like for my boyfriend to be at my birthday, please.” She pouted up at her mum, her large blue eyes filled with expectation.

“Dad promises to behave,” Scorpius pipped up, earning himself a smack over the head from his father.

Rose giggled and stroked Scorpius’ head, before looking up at her mother expectantly.

“I’ll talk to Ginny, to see if she can soften your uncle up,” offered Hermione with a skeptical tone. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Rose and Scorpius’ shoulders sagged, and they looked at each other dejectedly.

“I could always drop Scorp off at your house and you can take him,” Draco offered quickly looking at Hermione. “I don’t think he’ll be harassed in a house full of former Order members and Aurors.”

Scorp grinned at his dad and Rose’s eyes light up. They had both grown excited.

His statement had surprised Hermione. Draco seldom let Scorpius out of his sight. It was the reason Rose had insisted she accompany them on the date. It stirred something in Hermione that he would trust her with his son, considering how protective he was.

“He might be hazed by a house full of overprotective uncles and cousins, though,” Hermione said, placing a hand over Rose’s shoulder. Draco tensed. “I’ll talk to Gin tonight, I’m sure it will be fine. I’ll owl you tomorrow.”

Hermione looked down at her daughter and opened her mouth to say something when he interrupted her.

“Actually, Granger,” Draco began quickly. Hermione looked at him and could see the nervousness in his eyes. “Would you allow me to take you out to dinner, maybe tomorrow?”

“Dad!” Scorpius gaped at his father as Rose’s eyes widened.

Hermione stared at him; her mouth slightly open in shock. She had caught on to Draco’s flirting, but she never imaged he’d go as far as asking her to dinner.

She hadn’t been on a date in a while, and she had quite enjoyed her afternoon. There really was no harm in agreeing.

“That would be lovely,” she finally responded.

“Mum!” Rose gasped.

“Rose.” Hermione fixed her daughter with a stern stare and Rose’s shoulders immediately shrunk.

“Great, then, I’ll owl you the details tonight,” He said smiling. “Thank you, Granger.”

Hermione flashed him a smile, before biting her lip. “Thank you, Draco. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She surprised herself by using his given name so freely and by the way his lips had quirked when she said it, she knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Scorpius hugged Rose before she and Hermione retreated down the alley.

Scorpius turned to glare at his father once the receding silhouettes of Hermione and Rose had disappeared. His face was a mixture of shock and anger. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if trying to say something, but it appeared words failed the boy at that moment.

Draco put his hand on his son’s shoulder and patted him lightly.

“Close your mouth, son, it is unbecoming,” he said calmly.

His words seemed to bring Scorpius out of his daze. He snapped his mouth shut and glared at his father.

“Why did you just ask my girlfriend’s mum on a date?” He asked in a drawl reminiscent of his father’s younger years.

Draco raised an eyebrow at his son questioningly.

“Is that going to be an issue?”

Scorpius swatted away Draco’s hand from his shoulder. He crossed his arms over his chest menacingly, seizing himself up in front of his father, despite Draco being a good foot taller than him.

“Yes. You’re not allowed to date my girlfriend’s mother. It’s in the father-son rules.”

Draco pondered for a moment while rubbing his jaw with his hand. He looked carefully at his son. “Are you sure?”

Scorpius’ demeanor shifted in a moment, he was more relaxed, a glimmer of triumph making its way into his grey eyes.

“I forbid it,” he said simply, staring up at his father.

At his words, Draco’s face broke into a vast grin. He chuckled at his son’s audacity.

“In that case, Malfoys don’t date Weasleys. You either break up with her, or I’ll make myself another heir and disinherit you,” Draco replied casually. Scorpius’ face fell at his father’s words. “Either way, I’m taking Granger out tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Saturday, July 25, 2020_

When Hermione and Rose stepped out of the floo and into the living room of Harry and Ginny’s home, Rose darted towards the yells growing louder in the backyard. It was common to find the Potters on a Saturday afternoon playing Quidditch against each other in their back yard.

“Uncle Harry, switch with me!” Rose bellowed from the ground.

All five Potters, Albus safely from the ground holding a book in hand, turned to look at Rose.

Harry immediately swooped down and circled over the young witch with his broom.

“No way! Tell your aunt to let you play,” he replied playfully.

“I’m your goddaughter!”

Ginny touched down on the ground beside Rose and gave her a high five, avoiding a fight between her husband and niece.

“I’m out,” said Ginny. “Don’t let those Potter boys best you, Rosie.”

Harry groaned audibly as he flew away yelling, “You’re a Potter, too!”

“Tell that to my red hair, Potter!” she retorted before reaching Hermione and greeting her with a hug. “Wasn’t expecting you to visit today, something wrong?”

Hermione smiled at the redhead and shook her head.

“Just a child exchange, Ron will be over to pick her up later,” Hermione explained. She followed Ginny through the house and into the living room, where they both sprawled themselves out on the furniture. “I also wanted to talk to you about something, privately.”

Ginny eyed her friend carefully, before waving her hand carelessly and throwing her legs over the side of the couch. Hermione felt Ginny’s magic wash over them, as the _Muffliato_ charm settled. She shifted in her armchair and faced away from Ginny.

“Spit it out, Granger,” Ginny said, exasperated with her friend’s hesitation.

“So, you know how Rose is dating Scorpius Malfoy?” 

Ginny raised an eyebrow to stare at her friend. Hermione could practically hear the gears in Ginny’s head turning.

“Oh, I’m well aware. Al’s been complaining about it all summer,” she said, noncommittally. “You know he doesn’t have very many friends, and now Scorp and Rose are hanging out by themselves, and he feels left out. He broods just like Harry.”

Hermione smiled at Ginny’s comment. Her friend worried constantly about Albus’s difficulty for making friends. The reality was that Rose and Albus had been inseparable since they were able to crawl, not having the need for making many friends. When they arrived at Hogwarts however, Rose grew into a social butterfly, which made Albus feel left out. Nonetheless, they still were the closest of any of the Weasley cousins, practically best friends. The only problem was their friendship prompted the relationship between Rose and Scorpius.

“Right, so, Rose invited him to her birthday next weekend,” Hermione started tentatively.

“Of course, she would, they are dating,” Ginny replied calmly. But, after a moment, she practically jumped off the couch and sat up straight. “And Malfoy’s letting him come? He never lets him go anywhere.”

Ginny’s face was a mixture of excitement and shock, her brown eyes glinting with just a hint of mischief.

“He asked me if I thought it would be fine if he brought him,” Hermione answered simply. Then, she added as an afterthought, “I told him I’d speak to you.”

There, Ginny’s face broke into a wide malicious grin.

“Brought as in, they would both be staying for the party?”

“Mhmm”

“Harry’s party?”

“Mhmm”

“At my house?”

“Just say no and don’t beat around the bush.”

Ginny’s face broke into a grin, she let herself fall back down on the couch before speaking.

“This is going to be amazing. I hope they fight,” the redhead exclaimed, the giddiness evident in her features as she looked up at the roof.

Hermione shook her head at her friend’s comment, letting out a short, exasperated sigh.

“They won’t. Draco was nothing but pleasant today during lunch,” Hermione said, feigning nonchalance. 

“You had lunch with him today?” Ginny asked, head whipping up to look at her friend. Suddenly, her face scrunched up in confusion. Then, in a louder tone than before, she asked, “since when do you call him Draco?” 

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning, and she silently admonished herself for it.

“Since today,” she answered petulantly. “And yes, Rose and Scorp had a date,” Hermione paused, considering how much information she would disclose to her prying friend. “They went for lunch at that new coffee shop near Flourish and Blotts, and Draco and I sat outside while the children ate. It was a very enjoyable lunch.”

Ginny raised a skeptical eyebrow at her friend, her mouth twisting up into a knowing smile.

“What did you talk about?”

Hermione bit her lower lip but quickly released it before Ginny could notice.

“We talked about the children, my divorce, his wife’s passing, parenting, our careers,” she began mentioning, as if counting down a list of groceries. Then in a much more subdued tone, she added, “We even talked about the war.”

Ginny’s eyes widened at Hermione. She was quiet for a moment and then stood, to waltz into the kitchen.

“It sounds like you and Malfoy had a date,” the redhead said smugly over her shoulder. 

Hermione blushed once more. She stood quickly and followed Ginny into the kitchen, steeling herself for the rest of the conversation.”

“Actually…” Hermione began, letting her words trail off. She wasn’t sure she was prepared for Ginny’s reaction. 

“Well?” Ginny pried, busying herself, her back to Hermione as she minded dinner.

“We’re going to dinner tomorrow.” She paused, gauging her friend’s reaction. “Without the kids.”

Ginny turned to face her friend, eyebrows nearly touching her hairline, mouth slightly open. It took her a full second to gain back her composure.

“You’re going on a date with Malfoy, Draco Malfoy? Then you’re bringing him to my husbands’ birthday? My husband, who he hates?”

Hermione’s response was a short shrug.

“Thank you, Hermione, my life hasn’t been as interesting since the end of the war. I needed some action and drama in it.” Ginny laughed as she turned back to the food.

* * *

_Sunday, July 26, 2020_

Hermione finished applying the last bit of mascara on her eyelashes just as she heard the familiar sound of the floo.

It pained Hermione to admit that she fuzzed over her impending date with Draco for the past twenty-four hours. Considering Rose was staying with her father, Hermione had very few distractions from her date.

Hermione hadn’t been on a date in a _very_ long time. She wracked her brains trying to remember her last date, she thought it might have been dinner with Oliver Wood when Rose started her second year at Hogwarts. Why hadn’t she gone on a second one?

She remembered having a lovely time with Oliver, but she couldn’t fathom how the date had gone wrong. It bothered her to no extent, particularly since she could remember all the previous dates she’d had before that and how they had gone wrong.

From Earnie McMillan, who had tried to date to increase his chances of getting a promotion.

To Cormac McLaggen, who suggested sending Rose away for camp in America as not to deal with her during the summers.

And even one of her coworkers, who she went on three dates with before he accidentally mentioned having a wife in the office.

Hermione was determined to not let this date blow up in flames, like all the ones before that. Yet, she couldn’t shake the thought that her date with Oliver had somehow gone wrong because of… her.

What had she done? Certainly, she wouldn’t repeat it.

She chanced one more look at herself in the mirror before heading towards her living room.

Stopping paces away from the entrance to the living room, Hermione smoothed away nonexistent wrinkles on the skirt of her dress. An attempt to buy time to steel her nerves. Her hands fidgeted for a moment with the bow around her waist.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it, reminding herself she’d been on countless dates before— even if they always went horribly wrong. She tried to convince herself there was no need to be nervous. She shook her head as if the nerves would tumble away with the movement and finally stepped into the living room.

Draco was turned towards the telly, observing it quietly. She could see some of his profile from her angle. Dressed in a dark grey tailored suit, with dragon-hide shoes, he was the perfect image of everything the head of the Malfoy dynasty should be.

Hermione wasn’t surprised at his choice of outfit. He sent an owl in the morning telling her to dress formally. It turned her stomach into knots. She wondered all day what type of date he was taking her on, where he felt the need to clarify that she needed to dress nicely.

But seeing him there, curiosity etched into his features as he observed the strange muggle artifact, it calmed her in a way she was not brave enough to explore now. The knots in her stomach and the worry she’d been feeling all day dissipated when his hand reached up to touch the black screen.

“It’s called a television,” she said, announcing her arrival in what she hoped was a casual tone.

His hand froze in midair and Draco turned towards her, looking a bit startled for only a second.

He composed himself quickly, taking a moment to study her appearance before flashing her a charming grin.

Hermione’s insides melted.

“You look gorgeous,” he replied in a low tone.

The bluntness of his statement left Hermione taken aback. She felt her cheeks warm, hoping they paled in comparison to the scarlet of her dress.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

His grin widened and he stepped closer to her, offering his hand. She took it without hesitation, smiling up at him.

“There’s been a slight change of plans though,” he began, as she led him to the front steps of her house. “Mother had purchased seats for London’s Magical Philharmonic Orchestra, but unfortunately for her, she finds herself indisposed.”

* * *

Hermione used to enjoy going to the orchestra. As a child, her mother and father had always brought her along. She reveled in the opportunity to dress in her fanciest dresses and chatter on about the latest classic she’d read to her parents’ friends and colleagues.

As an adult, she considered her visit not much more than an opportunity to mingle, and being Hermione Granger, _War Heroine and Brightest Witch of Her Age_ left her being the focus of lots of unwanted attention. Apparently, nobody ever forgot her role in defeating a Dark Wizard.

The concert was crowded with high-ranking Ministry officials and some of the most wealthy and prominent wizarding folk. All of whom wanted to _mingle_ with her.

Hermione, on the other hand, wanted to enjoy her time. This quickly became a problem when she noticed Draco seemed to know every person in the room, which was mildly infuriating, if only slightly surprising.

Some of the businessmen he’d acquainted had been over the top to meet his companion. _The_ _Hermione Granger,_ they all exclaimed as they shook her hands fervently. A foreign witch, who was very familiar with him when he introduced them, had been positively giddy at being in her presence and kissed her on both cheeks before going on a rant about how Hermione had been her idol growing up.

While Draco’s socialite skills were dizzying, Hermione was forced to admit that he was considerate enough to bring her into every one of his conversations and made a point to introduce her, if not reacquaint her with the figures with whom he spoke. Always a dashing smile and his hand never too far from the small of her back.

“You’re quite good at this,” he whispered close to his ear, steering her away from Damocles Belby, who had gone into deep conversation with Hermione regarding werewolf rights.

Hermione snapped her head up at him, beaming smugly at him.

“Oh really? I am Hermione Granger after all,” she said, feigning to brush off the compliment.

“Not that I expected anything less of you, of course,” he amended quickly. “Just giving praise to those who deserve it.”

She laughed, a genuine laugh that bubbled from deep in her belly, head tilting back slightly. Something about the way he’d said it as if she were still the young girl who strove for the approval of her classmates made her truly amused.

When she composed herself enough to look at Draco, his crystal grey eyes shone brightly with mirth. Holding back a grin, he added, “Isn’t that your primary source of food? Or has your diet changed these days?”

She shook her head, curls bouncing softly before falling back over her shoulders, a deep smile painted on her lips.

“Long gone is the Hermione who wanted to please others, nowadays I please only my daughter and myself.”

Draco stepped closer into her space, fixing her with a deeply penetrative stare. Unblinking, he asked, “And when was the last time you let someone else please you?”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, his comment taking her completely by surprise. Despite not having words to respond, she opened her mouth.

She was saved by a familiar voice from behind her.

“Hermione.” 

They both turned.

“Kingsley,” she greeted the former Minister for Magic with a warm hug.

“Mister Malfoy,” Kings greeted, shaking Draco’s hand firmly.

“Minister, how’s retirement treating you?” Draco asked in a tone very reminiscent of his fathers. It sent chills down Hermione’s spine.

“It would be better if I didn’t have to still make appearances like this one,” he said gesturing toward the new Minister for Magic, a tough-looking, balding man, whom Hermione only knew in passing.

Hermione smiled softly at her former boss, “I know you’ve always hated these things.”

She remembered Kinglsey being a more practical Minister and less focused on politics and more hands-on with regards to running the wizarding community.

“Have you had a chance to speak to Minister Dawlish?” He asked her with a glint in his eyes. Hermione shook her head.

“No, we’ve barely been able to escape the hoards rushing to make Hermione’s acquaintance.” Draco chuckled, placing his hand once again on Hermione’s back.

Her head snapped up to gaze at him at the mention of her given name.

Kinglsey instantly drew the Minister away from his current conversation, introducing him to Hermione and Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy.” The old man shook Draco’s hand, then he quickly took Hermione’s placing a cordial kiss on her knuckles. “Mrs. Weasley.”

She felt Draco’s hand press firmly into her back.

Hermione smiled weakly at him before snatching her hand back and correcting him, “That’s Granger, Minister Dawlish.”

The old man looked bemused. Hermione had faced that expression many times before. Divorce was not a topic to be held lightly within the wizarding community, particularly around wizards of the Minister’s age.

“Right, I forget. It’s difficult to teach an old dog new tricks.”

Hermione smiled kindly at the old wizards, keeping up a polite conversation with them. Soon enough, Draco had swooped her away from the Ministers and beckoned her towards the entrance.

Once outside, he offered her his hand.

“Would you like to go to dinner now?” He asked her with a playful smirk on his lips. “We have a reservation at a restaurant just down the streets, a few minutes’ walk.”

She smiled up at him.

“Please, I need at least two glasses of wine to wash the taste of Hermione Weasley off my tongue.” She shook her head in exasperation, earning a soft chuckled from the blond wizard. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Honestly, if I ever marry again, I will not be changing my name.”

“And is that something you’re looking forward to?” Draco asked without missing a beat.

Hermione looked at him questioningly, but he was not looking at her. Instead, his gaze remained straight ahead.

“Remarrying, I mean,” he added. 

Hermione froze, a bad idea considering Draco still held on to her arm quickly. He paused when he felt her halt and finally turned to look at her.

“Excuse me?”

His brow furrowed slightly, the smirk evaporating from his features.

“Was that too straightforward? I didn’t mean to be abrupt,” he said, placing one hand over her arm when she moved to remove it from his grasp.

She tugged it away from him regardless, frowning deeply as she looked up to see his face.

“Malfoy, this is barely a first date.”

He widened his eyes at her in disbelief, shaking his head briefly.

“I’m not proposing to you, Granger,” he said in a deeply condescending tone. “I am a single father concerned with the well being of my son. He hasn’t ever met anyone I’ve dated, not that it’s been a lot, mind you,” he added when her eyes widened. “Unfortunately, this is not a luxury I can afford with you. I would like to get an idea of what you expect out of a relationship before my son has the opportunity to misread the situation.”

Her eyes widened even more as he spoke, and she felt annoyance creep up her senses with each of his words.

“I’m a single mother too-”

He quickly interrupted her, “And giving the nature of our children’s relationship, I think it best to be clear on what type of relationship we wish to pursue with each other.”

Hermione laughed a loud misplaced cackle, a stark contrast to the previous ones he’d elicited from her. It sounded foreign even to her own ears.

“I’m sorry, Malfoy. This was a mistake,” she said stepping away from him. “We should keep being civil for the sake of our kids. I’ll see you next Friday at Rose’s birthday. Ginny was very pleased to hear you and Scorp would be there.”

Without waiting for his reply, Hermione apparated away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express how thankful I am for the support this story has received! Thank you all so much for reading! I'll hopefully see you next week with the third chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the overwhelming support this story has received! 
> 
> This chapter has been brought to you by AlocYrrehc, who worked tirelessly to turn my mumbling words into something intelligible!

_ Monday, July 27 _ _ th _ _ , 2020 _

_ Dear Rose, _

_ Dad has been in a foul mood since he got back from his date with your mum last night. I tried asking about it at dinner tonight and he said what happened during their date was their business. He insisted that you and I stay out of it. I know you are staying with your dad, but could you maybe ask about it when you get home? I haven’t seen dad this upset since he found out my best friend was Albus Potter, and that is saying something. _

_ He did mention that we would be attending your party this week. I can’t wait to see you again. Should I bring my broom so I can join your cousins at Quidditch? Let me know. _

_ Take care, _

_ Scorpius H. Malfoy _

* * *

_ Wednesday, July 29, 2020 _

_ Dearest Scorpius, _

_ I’ve been back with mum for two days and she has been acting weird as well. I’ve tried asking about the date several times, but all she’ll say is ‘fine’. I can only guess they simply did not hit it off. It’s probably for the best, though. Can you only imagine if they had? What if they ended up marrying each other? That would be the most awkward arrangement ever. I agree with your dad, we should stay out of it, if only in an attempt to remain unjinxed. They’ll get over it quickly, it was only one date, after all. _

_ I am looking forward to seeing you on Friday! We will be playing Weasley Quidditch, so your broom is required. Might I suggest bringing a helmet and protective gear? Jamie and Teddy have been joking about sending the bludgers exclusively at you, just for being my boyfriend. But don’t worry, I’ll have Aunt Ginny hex them if they get too out of hand. _

_ Love, _

_ Rose W. _

* * *

_ Friday, July 31, 2020 _

Hermione wrung her hands in Ginny’s kitchen. She’d been so anxious, she only half heard the redheaded witch as she waved her wand, effortlessly preparing food for the party guests. Both witches had skipped work that day, in a long-standing tradition to join together in the birthday preparations for Ginny’s husband and Hermione’s daughter, although Hermione had been uncharacteristically unhelpful all day.

She’d avoided Roseall week, desperate to not talk about her date with Malfoy, but she knew there’d be no avoiding it once he appeared in the Potter’s floo. 

She shouldn’t have agreed to go out with him in the first place. It was a spur of the moment, bad idea based on one civil meal with a long-time enemy. Twenty years may have passed, but Malfoy's views on life were still very different from her own.

Exasperated, Ginny spun around, hands on hips, leveling a glare so reminiscent of Molly Weasley Hermione cringed. It was time to face the music.

“Hermione, you’ve been completely unhelpful today, what in Merlin’s name is wrong with you?” Ginny demanded.

Shaking her head, Hermione pretended to busy herself by charming the icing on the cake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gin.”

“Okay, you have to tell me what happened on your date with Malfoy.”

Hermione blanched. “I- Ginny, it’s not- What makes you think it’s about him?” 

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Hermione. She started ticking off her fingers. “You arrived from your date in a bad mood. You haven’t spoken about what happened on Sunday to anybody, not even Rose. Finally, you’ve iced that cake three times since you got here. You’re oozing anxiety and it is getting worse by the minute.” Ginny surveyed Hermione. Abruptly, she dropped her wand, taking her friend's hands in hers. “Merlin, Hermione, did he hurt you? I'll hex his bollocks off!” she snapped. She snatched her wand from the countertop and brandished it at the fireplace as if Malfoy had just stepped in through it.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s endearing reaction. Hermione had never had many girlfriends, but Ginny was different. Their friendship had grown exponentially during their last year at Hogwarts after the war as nights spent confiding in each other transformed them from friends to something closer to sisters. Hermione trusted Ginny to help each other, and Harry, heal from the wounds left by years of fighting and abuse. Hermione sighed her shoulders loosened, and she gave Ginny a warm smile. “Malfoy is just—"

“We’re back to Malfoy, now then? I thought you were friendly now.” Ginny interrupted, snatching the bottle of wine from the counter and filling two glasses nearly to the rim.

“Well, apparently he’s never had anyone be friendly to him in his life because I called him Draco once and he asked me to marry him!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, her free hand flying to cover her mouth as if she could put them back.

Ginny’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth gaped open.

“He what?” Ginny practically yelled. “What do you mean he proposed? Is he bloody mad?”

Hermione groaned, letting herself fall on the stool and taking a heavy gulp of wine.

“He didn’t actually propose,” Hermione corrected. She sighed heavily and let her face fall into her hands, her hair tumbled over to cover it. “He asked me if I had considered remarrying and what my expectations in a relationship were.”

She waited for Ginny to say something, to validate her frustration, to agree that Malfoy had gone completely bonkers and that she was not, in fact, overreacting. But no words of comfort ever came.

“Apparently, Scorpius never meets any of the women he dates, but since he already knows me, he wants to be able to have a conversation with Scorp about what this would mean.”

Surely Ginny had to agree with her now.

Hermione felt a thwack over her head, and she looked up to find Ginny glaring at her fiercely. She held a dishtowel firmly in her hand, her weapon of choice.

“Ginny! What was that for?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ginny struck her with the dishtowel twice more.

“For being a bloody idiot!”

Hermione dodged another of Ginny’s dishtowel attacks, stopping the offending object with her hands and tugging it away from her deranged friend.

“ _ I’m _ not being a bloody idiot,” she yelled, flipping the towel at Ginny in return. “ _ He’s _ being a bloody idiot! Asking me if I would like to remarry. Who does that  _ on a first date _ , Ginny?”

“A single father who worries about his son’s well being,” Ginny deadpanned, not taking her eyes off the tray she’d started working on.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ginny. Suddenly, she didn’t think Ginny was doing a very good job at being her sister.

“How do you not see where he’s coming from, Hermione? You’re in the same position as he is with Rosie. And honestly, I don’t think you’ve given it due consideration, otherwise, you’d agree with Malfoy.” Ginny jabbed her wand toward her, driving the point home.“What were you planning on doing if this relationship with Malfoy actually blossomed into something and you ended up living with the bloke? Just move Rose into her boyfriend’s home? What if they broke up? Would they still have to see each other around the house, act like siblings, and pretend you’re all one big happy family?” 

Ginny’s words washed over her, sobering her. How could Hermione ever consider this? She had been so stupid to believe that going on that date was as simple as... well, going on a date.

Dejected, Hermione shook her head.

“This was a mistake,” she whispered. “I never should have gone on that date with him.”

“No, what is wrong with you today?” Ginny reached for Hermione’s glass of wine, removing it from her hands. “I’m cutting you off, you’re too dumb to drink.”

Hermione looked at her friend, perplexed. “Wasn’t that what you were trying to say? That dating Malfoy was a horrible idea?”

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione, wagging a finger at her friend. “No! That’s what you want to believe. I think  _ you  _ are in desperate need for company and Malfoy probably is too. Once your kids both go off to Hogwarts, you’ll find yourself alone for the next ten months, which is more than enough time to figure out what this is!

“Besides,” her tone softened. “It’s not like you expect to remake your life over Draco Malfoy. You’re forty-one, have a teenage daughter, and will probably be Minister for Magic by the end of the year. You are allowed to date without having to jump into marriage. You know this right?”

Hermione considered Ginny’s words. As usual, the redhead was right, and, as usual, Hermione was getting ahead of herself. She had gone on one date with Malfoy, and before his mention of the  _ m word _ , Hermione enjoyed herself with him.

She’d enjoyed herself on their lunch in Diagon too.

Ginny and Draco were both right: establishing boundaries for their potential relationship would be crucial, not only for them but for the sake of their children.

She needed to learn to let sleeping dragons lie.

The floo roared to life, sending Ginny in a rush towards the living room to greet her newly arrived guests. Ever Molly Weasley’s daughter, Ginny greeted her guests and led them towards the garden, where the party was underway.

Hermione remained in her seat waiting for Ginny’s return. She poured herself some more wine, considering briefly that it might not be the best idea she’d ever had, but the last week had been more complicated than anything she’d had to handle since her divorce.

She heard Ginny’s footsteps entering the kitchen behind her but didn’t turn to look at her friend, eyes glued to the glass in front of her.

“Hermione.”

The voice sent shivers down her spine, and her chair went crashing to the floor in her rush to stand. Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway to the Potter kitchen, Ginny by his side, piercing Hermione with an unforgiving glare.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but words escaped her as she took in Draco’s appearance. If she’d been shocked by how much he’d changed before, she was even more so taking him in now.

Draco wore jeans… muggle jeans that hugged his waist quite well. His white button-down long-sleeved shirt was missing the top two buttons and Hermione tried very hard not to blush. The three glasses of wine she’d already downed were not helping, she suddenly felt dizzy. The air in the kitchen felt dense and oppressively hot in the closed space.

She pressed her back against Ginny’s counter, her hands clung to it as if the action would ground her. She wasn’t ready to face him. Though she knew it was inevitable, she still harbored a hope that maybe after their train wreck of a date he would act as if nothing had happened.

She felt herself taking a deep breath, and saw a pale eyebrow disappear into his hairline.

She’d been quiet for too long.

“Hello.”

As soon as the squeak left her lips, she closed her eyes and flinched. She could only imagine the disappointed stare he was probably fixing her with.

“Thank you, Ginny.” How could he be so calm?. “Would it be alright if I had a moment to speak with Granger?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped open, panicked over being left alone with him, or disappointed that he’d reverted to using her last name, but she felt compelled to look at him.

“I’ll be right outside if anybody needs me,” Ginny said, giving Hermione a look and wave of her hand that said “ _ fix this _ ” before retreating from the kitchen.

They stood in silence; Hermione felt as if she’d aged ten years in the time they spent avoiding each other’s gazes. It was  _ really  _ quite childish of both of them. 

“Look Draco—”

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, at the exact moment that she began speaking.

Draco Malfoy had caught her off guard with his charm when they first sat down at Diagon Alley for lunch on Saturday. He caught her off guard when he asked her on a date last week. He completely shook her to the core when he asked her about marriage. Yet, if she’d been surprised by him before, she was even more confused now.

“What?”

He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he stepped further into the kitchen, edging closer to her. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the counter.

“I wanted to apologize for causing our misunderstanding the other night,” he said, his voice level. Hermione marveled at his composure, especially when she was a mess of nerves herself. “I understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Hermione laughed, not quite a cackle, but a bubbling laugh that sent one hand up to cover her mouth, while the other hugged her midsection. His grey eyes widened, and Hermione could see the panic reflected in them.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly blurted, covering another snicker with her hand. “I just find it funny, because it’s been called to my attention that I overreacted.”

She giggled again, clearly unable to restrain herself, but this time Draco’s eyes softened. His brow relaxed and she could see the smallest hint of a smile painting the corners of his lips.

He didn’t speak, evidently waiting for her to elaborate.

“You’re right,” she said when was sure she wouldn’t laugh again. “If we chose to be anything more than friends, our relationship would be complicated by our children. It’s a good idea to talk about how we should proceed.”

It was his turn to laugh.

“Right. And we definitely do not have to consider marriage when we have that conversation,” he added.

His eyes flickered down to the floor for the briefest of moments before resting back on her face.

“No, we do not.”

She beamed up at him.

Two strides brought him directly in front of her. Hermione gazed up at him, enveloped in his surprisingly floral cologne. He raised a hand and it hovered closer to her face for a brief moment, cupping her cheek when she nodded in assent.

“I would very much like the opportunity to take you out to dinner.” His voice was low, and she felt his breath ghost against her face. “Properly this time.”

Hermione’s cheeks burned as she bit her lower lip. “No fuck ups?” 

He nodded. “No fuck ups.”

“I promise to not run away this time.”

He smirked and Hermione’s insides melted.

“And we can talk about how we’d like to proceed with this.”

Hermione nodded her agreement again and she placed her hand on his chest. They slowly closed the gap between them, close enough to feel each other’s breaths, but neither willing to give the first step. Time stopped when her hand found the nape of his neck. They stared at each other intently in their proximity, both desperate to feel each other’s lips. They inched closer together, lips parting as they grew closer together, then–

“Hey, mum! Have you seen my—” Rose burst into the kitchen, Scorpius crashing into her as she came to an abrupt stop. “Woah.”

Draco stepped away from Hermione, and she missed his warmth almost immediately. He adjusted his clothes as he cleared his throat. 

“What’s going on here?” Rose questioned, staring from Hermione to Draco.

“Hermione and I were just talking,” Draco explained, his voice taking on the business-like tone she’d heard him use on Scorpius before.

Scorp cocked an eyebrow at him. “That didn’t look like  _ just talking _ .”

“Scorpius,” he began.

Hermione quickly cut him off. “No, it’s okay. We were just talking, nothing happened.” She gave Rose a desperate smile. “You wanted something?”

Rose’s eyes widened.

“I was just wondering if you’d seen my broom,” she blurted.

“I’ll be out to help you find it in a moment. Go outside.”

Rose pressed her lips into a thin line. Scorpius opened his mouth to protest, but Rose tugged him away from the kitchen before he could say anything else.

Hermione didn’t miss how Draco had stared intently at her during the whole exchange.

“We can set a date when you’ve thought about your expectations.” Draco’s voice had softened when he spoke to her.

With that, he followed the children out of the kitchen, leaving Hermione alone, excited, and feeling just a little like a teenager all over again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I'm enjoying writing this. This little piece will be about five chapters long and is halfway written. The next chapter will probably be up in about a week. 
> 
> So far it's un-beta'd, therefore all mistakes are my own!


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